Incubus Redux
by deangirl1
Summary: Chapter two is the missing scene between Chapter 23 and 24 of Incubus. Dean tells Sasha about the deal.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Supernatural. I'm playing in two sandboxes with this little offering – Kripke's and Crimson1's – I'm hoping Kripke will cut me a little slack and I have permission from Crimson1 – thanks!

**WARNING: **This is not like my other fics – some of you will not like this and therefore shouldn't read – **Kel and Maggie** – turn back now – trust me, you don't want to read this….

**A/N:** This is me stretching my incubus wings – I'm a first timer for this kind of story, so be as gentle with me as I know Sasha will be with Dean….

**FANGIRL ALERT/SQUEE: **This story came about as a shout out/ love affair with Crimson1's story _Incubus_. If you haven't read that, you really should or this won't make a damn bit of sense… That story has me soooo hooked I couldn't wait for the next chapter, so this was born. It is kind of an alternate/parallel to chapter 13 of her story…. AND YES, she's read it and green lighted me to post this -

After breakfast, they'd all been whipped and decided to take it easy for the rest of the day. Dean was relieved to put some distance between himself and Sasha's pheremones. Retreating back to their room, Sam immediately fired up the laptop and Dean threw himself on his bed, flicking on the television. It wasn't long before the tapping of the keyboard was accompanied by Dean's gentle snores.

Dean's dreams kept pulling him back to the locked room and Sasha's incubus form looming over him. Dean shivered in his dream. Just as Sasha was stomping across the room toward him, Dean jerked awake. Quickly glancing around the room, he saw that at some point even Sam had given up and was asleep on the other bed.

Dean wiped his sweating face. He was relieved that while his body had been having a definite reaction to the sight of the incubus in his dream, the reaction was not a full blown hard on. Because that would just be wrong… or at least it would probably just be the pheremones again.

Glancing at the window, Dean was surprised to see that it was late enough for the sun to be low in the sky. He was dying for a shower and something to eat. He knew he had slept for several hours, but he still felt like he hadn't slept in days. A nice, cold shower would help to wake him up, he was sure.

The cold water hitting the gashes on his chest stung, but otherwise the water was able to eventually quell the fever burning in Dean's body.

When Dean turned the shower off, he heard voices in the bedroom. Well, Sam's voice anyway. Quickly towelling off, Dean wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back into the bedroom. Sam was just hanging up the phone. Dean quirked an eyebrow at his brother.

"That was Sasha. He and Bobby are gonna meet us for dinner at the bar on the corner."

"Sure." Dean did NOT just get butterflies in his stomach when his brother mentioned Sasha's name. "You want a shower before we go?" Dean was considering turning around and having another shower himself. Suddenly he was uncomfortably warm for some reason. Pheremones. Damn. It was gonna take the better part of 24 hours for them to get out of his system.

"Yeah. I'll just have a quick jump through."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

It was a half hour later that Dean and Sam made their way into to the bar. Sasha and Bobby had already gotten a booth. Dean quickly slid in beside Bobby, letting Sam sit with Sasha.

Sasha looked a little hurt. Dean noticed because he was drowning in the brilliant blue of Sasha's eyes.

"How are you guys feeling? Get some rest?" what Sasha really meant was how was Dean and had he gotten over being attacked.

Dean shook himself. He really needed to get a grip. For some reason that was currently eluding him, but hell, yeah, there needed to be some gripping going on.

"Dude, how many times are we going to have to go over this. We. Are. Fine. You. Are. Fine. Now, drop it." Dean grabbed a menu and started studying it.

"Seems like somebody's nap did nothing to improve his disposition," Bobby chimed in.

"Hey, you didn't have to listen to the angsty-twins here go on and on this morning. But I'm willing to bet you'll get an earful tonight…" Dean looked up as the waitress arrived and gave her his best lewd smirk. She ate it up.

"Are you ready to order?"

The four hunters made short work of their meals, discussing their next move.

Dean was on his third beer when the waitress finally cleared away all of the dishes. The conversation was starting to drift around him. He was watching Sam as he got on his most earnest face, his eyebrows pulling together ever so slightly. Bobby had pushed his ball cap back and was asking questions about Sam's adventure in freaky-psychic-town. Sasha was following the conversation. Eyes moving and head turning slightly between Sam and Bobby. His mouth was slightly open as he listened to the two hunters try to make sense of the morning's events. His mouth, with those very soft and full lips. His red hair was being its usual unruly self and Sasha was unconsciously brushing it back. Dean had to stop himself from reaching across the table to touch that flaming red hair. He shook himself. He'd purposely sat as far from Sasha as he could.

"I'll be right back," Dean stood abruptly and headed for the washroom. He needed to splash cold water on his face, and he needed to do it now. Dean was a little surprised to find himself a bit unsteady on his legs. He felt like he'd had way more than a little over 2 beers.

When he got back to the table, Bobby and Sam were making to stand up and leave.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, as if there were a lot of choices.

"Bobby and I want to check out a few things on the computer," Sam explained, oblivious to his brother's sudden turmoil.

"You boys stay and finish your beers," Bobby insisted, so Dean slid back into the booth. He grabbed his beer with both hands, hoping to use the cold to his focus his scattered thoughts.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Sasha pressed gently once Sam and Bobby had gone.

"I won't be if you keep asking that!" Dean warned, risking a glance up from the table and through his lashes at Sasha's face.

"Ok. I just. Well. I just don't want anything to wreck our friendship, Dean. It means a lot to me, having a friend." Dean couldn't help but notice Sasha's lips as he talked. He pressed his hands harder against the beer bottle and pressed his back against the back of the booth. He could do this. Beat the damn pheremones because their friendship meant a lot to him.

"We're good, man," Dean managed to get out with what he knew was a pretty sickly version of his usual smirk. But it was enough to allow them to fall into their usual easy conversation.

It was about the time that their fourth beer arrived that Dean realized his leg was leaning up against Sasha's. For some reason that seemed to send a jolt of electricity through Dean's entire body. The electricity seemed to pool in his midsection, and warmth spread down his body. Dean couldn't help himself, he curled his boot around the back of Sasha's ankle.

Sasha raised his eyebrow and cleared his throat.

"Time to see a man about a horse," he said as he stood up. He passed by Dean and headed to the back of the bar. Dean couldn't help himself. He followed his friend as he walked past and then turned to watch him walk the length of the bar, fully enjoying the graceful sway of his hips. When Sasha reached up to open the bathroom door, a girl asked him a question, and he paused. Sasha was wearing the low riding jeans he favoured, so with his arm up, pulling up his shirt slightly, Dean could just glimpse a flash of skin and a hint of that very intriguing tattoo.

Dean's breath hitched in his throat at the sight, and he was suddenly painfully aware that he had a raging hard on. He took a long pull on his beer. It wasn't helping. He pressed the cold beer bottle into his forehead. Still not helping. His head felt like it was full of cotton wool. He couldn't get that vision of Sasha out of his head. He pressed the cold bottle into his crotch. He'd find a way to put the fire out, damn it.

He'd managed to get himself moderately under control by the time Sasha came back. And then Sasha had to squeeze his shoulder as he passed by him. Dean couldn't help but lean into the contact. Suddenly he found himself almost tipping out of the booth as the bar swung dizzily around him.

"Dean?" Sasha's voice seemed to be very far away.

"S'okay," Dean slurred. When did that happen? He suddenly felt really, really drunk.

"Crap. Dean this is probably another effect of the pheremones. They might intensify the effect of the alcohol." Sasha was peering with concern into Dean's face as his hand remained on his shoulder to help hold him up. It was nice. Dean really liked it when Sasha touched him. He wanted him to touch him more.

_NO. Pheremones_, Dean thought. He shook his head.

"Oh." Was all Dean managed to say. He was having trouble focusing his eyes.

"Look. I'd better help you back to your room, so you can sleep this off."

"'K. Sounds like that might be a good idea. But grroff me, I'm ok," Dean shoved Sasha back.

"Whatever you say Dean," Sasha backed up with his hands held wide in a placating gesture. He still hovered as Dean got somewhat unsteadily to his feet and tucked himself in beside Dean as he weaved his way out of the bar and back to the motel.

They had made it back to the motel relatively unscathed when Dean tripped and fell up against Sasha, knocking Sasha into the wall. Sasha caught Dean's wrists as Dean's hands came up to catch himself against Sasha's shoulders. They were facing each other chest to chest with Sasha's back up against the wall.

"You smell so good," Dean breathed and allowed his face to trace the line of Sasha's neck between Sasha's collar bone and ear. Dean shivered. Then his nose ghosted back down again as Dean breathed in Sasha's scent.

"Do you taste as good as you smell though?" Dean asked and then his tongue was tracing the same path up to Sasha's earlobe. Dean hummed low in his throat, finally giving in to the effects of the alcohol and pheremones. Sasha gasped and tightened his grip on Dean's wrists. When he made it to the earlobe, Dean hungrily sucked it in and nibbled on it gently. He really did taste good.

"Dean! Nnno," Sasha gasped out. Not like this. Sasha didn't want him like this. But it felt so good. He relaxed his hold on Dean's wrists, allowing his hands to trace the firm line of Dean's biceps and across his broad shoulders to his back. Dean collapsed into him, finally pressing his body up against his. Dean whimpered low in his throat.

Sasha's hands caressed the small of Dean's back, finding their way under his clothes to the bare skin – just like in the dream when it was so right.

Dean pulled his head back. "I think we should try that kiss again, don't you?" He blinked up at Sasha through his long lashes. The blink was slow. The gaze was unfocused. It wasn't just pure desire and Sasha knew it.

"No Dean. Not like this. I don't want you to regret this in the morning." Sasha breathed, his voice hitching with his own desire. Sasha couldn't control his own body's response.

And then Dean was pressing up into him soft lips caressing, his hands finding their way back along Sasha's jawline to fist in his beautiful crimson hair. Dean's tongue pressed gently requesting entry, exploring.

Sasha's hands kept caressing Dean's lower back, moving down to his firm buttocks and then one hand slid around his hip to caress his pulsing erection and that was the moment that was too much for Dean.

At Sasha's touch, Dean's head reared back and a strangled cry burst from his lips as his throbbing erection exploded. Stars exploded behind Dean's eyes blinding him with white light which quickly faded to black as his spent body collapsed unconscious into Sasha's arms.

"Dean," he whispered. "Damn it. What have we done. I didn't want you like this." Sasha easily threw Dean's body across his shoulder in a fireman's carry and he headed to the room that Dean was sharing with Sam. Sam opened the door shortly after he knocked. He was obviously still up. Sasha grinned a little awkwardly.

"I see Dean still knows when to say when," Sam remarked with a half smile.

"Not really his fault this time, Sam. I shouldn't have let him drink at all. The pheremones would have increased the effect of the alcohol on him…." Sasha explained as he carried Dean over to his bed. He carefully placed him on his stomach and removed his jacket and boots. Then he draped a blanket over his friend. He couldn't very well clean him up in front of Sam, so Dean would just have to deal with his little accident when he woke up. Sasha said a quick good night and retreated to his own room to think.

Dean woke several hours later with a splitting headache and a very vague idea about how he had made it back to his bed. It must have been a dream. It HAD to have been a dream. He didn't molest Sasha and then…. But he was lying in something cold and wet.

Dean managed to raise his head with a groan. The room was dark and Sammy was asleep. Dean pushed himself off the bed and then realized that what he thought he was feeling was what he thought it was.

"Damn it," he muttered, "What am I? Twelve?" Thoroughly disgusted with himself, he made his way into the bathroom to clean up after his "dream" before Sam could wake up and ask any embarrassing questions.

A/N: This was finished before Crimson posted the real chapter 13 – we got some giggles out of how close we were on a number of points….. So – I'm dying here – let me know what you think – And, hell yeah, I think Crimson's is better…..


	2. Dean Tells Sasha

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and am in Kripke and Crimson's debt for the loan of their very valuable assets!

**A/N:** This is the missing scene between Sasha and Dean that occurs between Chapters 23 and 24 of Crimson's _Incubus_. If you haven't read the original, you are missing perhaps the best story on the site! So, off you go and read that first! Really, go back and at least read the end of Chapter 23 – how's that for the best homework ever!

I know everyone has written this scene in their heads, so I hope this meets your expectations on some level…

There be very gentle slash ahead…

* * *

**_Incubus_ - Chapter 23**

Painfully, Dean turned his eyes away, because he didn't think he could look at Sasha when he said this.

"Sasha…there's something I have to tell you."

* * *

Dean drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them close to his body. He was shaking. He could feel all the good feelings just leaking out of him, leaving him hollow. He'd been an idiot to think that this kind of happiness could ever exist for him.

"Dean?" Sasha prodded gently, placing one large warm hand on Dean's back, the other coming up to rest on Dean's bicep.

"C'mon. Talk to me. You said you weren't freaking out. You know that I could never hate you. Just tell me."

Sasha's voice was low and warm like his hands. Trusting Dean. And it made Dean hate himself more. He knew he shouldn't have let things happen without telling him.

"We…we…" it was just so hard. So hard, to break both their hearts. "We don't have time." It came out as barely a whisper.

"Dean, please. I don't understand." Doubt and concern crept into Sasha's voice.

Dean kept his eyes firmly on the wall.

"Remember we told you about Cold Oak?"

"Of course. You killed the demon that killed your mother." Sasha's face creased in a frown. He couldn't see how this was connected.

"Yes. But before that."

"You and Sam were separated. You thought you'd lost him but got there just in time."

"We weren't. I wasn't."

"Dean, I don't understand."

"I was too late. Sam died. Sam died in my fucking arms; the same as I thought you had." Dean bit the words out. The words hurt almost as much as the actual event had. Dean doubted that sensation would ever change.

"But he wasn't really dead, Dean. The same way I wasn't really dead." Sasha's hand rubbed soothing circles on Dean's back.

It had all come rushing back because of recent events. Sasha was sure that Dean was just overloading on emotions. Sasha knew that Dean was so much more than what he let the world see. The tough, don't give a shit guy. There was a passionate heart beating beneath that no chick-flick exterior. But the tough shell made the soft interior that much more alluring to the incubus.

"No Sasha. He was really dead." Dean's voice betrayed no emotion.

"But…. But that's impossible. Sam's here. He's alive."

"I made a deal." Dean's voice was a pebble hitting the bottom of a well.

"What? What kind of deal?" Sasha's hand dropped to the bed. His voice barely a whisper now. Denying where this might be going.

"My soul. For his. Crossroads Demon." More pebbles.

"What does that mean exactly." Sasha knew he was getting this all wrong.

"I have less than a year left. She gave me a year. It's up in May." Echoes of pebbles.

"No." Sasha didn't think he could breathe. He didn't think he would ever breathe again. He pulled away from Dean.

Dean cringed as Sasha pulled away.

"I'm sorry. I tried to tell you. But when you said you didn't care if all we had was tonight. That you'd gladly just take tonight. I…I…"

"You're a selfish bastard," Sasha bit out and pushed himself off the bed.

Dean had no come back for that. He'd said as much to Sam.

"I couldn't live without him," Dean choked out. He dared to look up and around at the incubus.

Sasha was standing about two feet away from the bed. His arms were clutched around himself.

"I had to. I've protected him my whole life. I couldn't just let him go," Dean pleaded for understanding.

"You should have told me."

"I tried. It just never seemed like the right time." Dean's voice was a whisper again. His eyes fell back to the bed.

"It never seemed like the right time?"

"I don't want everyone to know. I don't want people to pity me. Look at me differently."

"So I'm just lumped in with 'everyone' else?"

"At first. Yeah, but…"

"I thought we were _friends_. We had _that_, I thought. Maybe I was wrong." Sasha's voice had become very soft. He sounded so young.

"No! Once we started to be friends, I didn't want it to change. I didn't want you to change. I didn't want for you to have to deal with that burden."

"Does Bobby know?"

"Well…um…yeah." Dean paused before rushing on. "But he was there. At least, he was there before. He saw Sam die. And then we kinda showed up on his doorstep. That was awkward."

Dean half smiled at the memory of the look on Bobby's face when he opened the door to see Sam standing there. Sam who he had last seen very dead on the bed in Cold Oak.

"So you don't mind _burdening_ Bobby."

"Are you listening to me? He. Was. There. Technically, I didn't tell him. He figured it out on his own."

"So what? I should have figured this out on my own?" Anger started to filter back into Sasha's voice.

"I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth," Dean pleaded.

"I guess it's no wonder that you didn't trust me with your little secret as I'm so dumb."

"It wasn't that I didn't trust you. I didn't want to hurt you. I thought we had time. That Sam and I would figure it out and solve it before it was too late, and I wouldn't have to tell you."

"You didn't want to hurt me. Bang up job there, Winchester." Sasha's voice was cold.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong not to tell you. Sam kept telling me to tell you. It never seemed like the right time. I was hoping for more time."

"You're damn right you were wrong. And Sam? Sam couldn't tell me himself?"

"I begged him not to. I promised I'd tell you."

"So nice to have friends," Sasha bit out, the pain clear in his voice. "Friends are supposed to trust each other. I'm pretty sure that's in the fucking definition."

"It wasn't that I didn't trust you. I just needed more time." Dean was beginning to feel like a broken record. He didn't know how to get through to the incubus. Possibly for the first time in his life, Dean wished he were Sam. Sam would know what to say.

"That's your answer or excuse or whatever for everything, isn't it? I need more time. I need to go slow. Were you hoping _this_ would never happen if we went slowly enough?"

"No… God… No." Dean's gaze pleaded with Sasha for understanding. For understanding of the emotions Dean didn't understand himself.

"You should have told me sooner, Dean. Did it ever occur to you that besides the fact that I deserved to know, maybe I could have helped? Or don't you trust me enough to help you?"

Dean couldn't breathe. This was exactly what he'd tried so hard to avoid. He'd hurt Sasha so deeply. Sasha who told him he longed to find someone he wanted to see when he woke up in the morning. Someone who was just for Sasha. Sasha had let himself need Dean. He'd trusted Dean.

Suddenly Sasha was right in his face. His too blue eyes flashing. Dean was drowning in the depths of those twin pools. Instead of the longing and affection that he usually saw when he looked into those eyes, Dean saw a storm-tossed sea. There was hurt and betrayal. Dean hoped he was imagining hate and repulsion, but he flinched back and broke the eye contact by closing his eyes and then focusing his gaze back on the bed.

Sasha's breath was hot on his face.

"You. Are. An. Asshole."

Dean might not be looking at Sasha but he could hear the pain and heartache he felt in his own chest echoed in Sasha's voice. Dean cast about frantically for some way to make this better. To make Sasha better. To make Sasha not sound hurt and broken.

Dean shut his eyes again and pressed the heels of his palms into them. He knew Sasha was right. He was an asshole. He didn't deserve Sasha. He didn't deserve Sam. He didn't deserve even one night of happiness.

"You should have told me. You should have trusted me. You should have trusted _us_."

Sasha was grabbing for clothes. He felt so exposed. He couldn't think.

"I need some air. I'd prefer if you weren't here when I got back." Sasha managed to choke out, pulling on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket. And then he was out the door before Dean could say anything else.

Dean's head fell to his knees. He heard Sasha move through the hall and heard the door open and click shut. He dragged himself from the bed. He couldn't think. He didn't want to think. Damn it. He couldn't even find his clothes. He grabbed the horrible tiger pants.

As he made his way through the living room to the stairs, he heard Sam stir.

"Dean? Everything ok?" Sam's whispered concern floated out of the darkness.

"No." Dean's whispered reply was short and so quiet that Sam almost didn't hear it. But Sam did hear the devastation behind the one word. His heart bled for his brother. He watched as he dragged himself up the stairs. Sam only hesitated a moment before shadowing his brother up the stairs.

Dean instinctively went for the shower. As he entered the bathroom, his legs almost betrayed him, and his stomach finally did. He retched uncontrollably for several minutes, all the good food leaving his body just as the good feelings had fled.

When he was done and felt like he could stand again, he peeled off the horrible pants and climbed into the shower. It wasn't long before he was wracked with the sobs of his anguish. For what he'd done to Sasha. For losing Sam. For losing Sasha. For losing his best friend. For losing his best chance for happiness.

Sam stood vigil on the other side of the door, his forehead gently resting against it as he listened to his brother sob under cover of the sound of the shower.

Dean slid down the wall until he was sitting, knees drawn up and back pressed against the wall. The water started to cool.

Dean heard the door to the bathroom open and soft footsteps. Someone shut the toilet and lowered themselves onto it.

The water was cold and Dean's teeth were beginning to chatter, but he couldn't seem to work up the energy to get up.

And then a hand was snaking in the front of the curtain, turning off the water.

"Jesus, Dean! That's friggin' ice cold." Sammy. It was Sammy.

And then a hand was snaking in the back of the curtain, thrusting a towel at him.

"C'mon, man. Get out."

Dean obeyed. He couldn't not do what Sam told him to do. It wasn't psychic mojo. It was brother mojo.

Dean quickly towelled off and wrapped the towel around his waist. Finally pushing the curtain back to be met with the concerned face of his brother. Puppy-eyes in full force.

"Jesus, Dean! You're just about blue you're so cold." Sam shook his head in exasperation and worry.

"Don't worry, Sam. Won't be long now and I won't have to worry about being cold."

Sam just looked hurt.

Great. It seemed to be his night for hurting the people he… what? Loved? Liked an extra special lot?

"I'm sorry," Dean choked out and dropped his eyes.

"For what? What happened, Dean?"

"Please. Don't. Not now. Not yet."

"Ok." Sam soothed. He knew he couldn't push Dean now. Not when he was like this. "Go to bed. You're exhausted. Everything will look better in the morning." Sam ushered Dean ahead of him and towards the pull-away. A large warm hand rested on his back, steadying him.

Dean just dropped the towel and curled up under the sheets, drawing his knees up to his chest as he lay on his side, turning his back to his brother and his face to the wall. He just wanted the oblivion of sleep.

He'd never prayed so hard not to dream.

* * *

**A/N:** Just one fangirl's maybe….

In very exciting news – and I'm thrilled to be the one to break this – _Incubus_ now has its own website! I'm not 100 sure of the policy on posting web addresses here, so I will leave that up to Crimson… Or you can PM me!


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